


dualité

by whiteautumn



Series: you're my kingdom come [2]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, Pining, although Kishou has no idea heh, how Kishou met Ken, open interpretations on some of the contents are welcomed, slight romance, that Assassin AU again, the authoress has officially lost her mind and has no idea what she's doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteautumn/pseuds/whiteautumn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And when he spoke, a nostalgic sound, you knew.</p><p>“Welcome.”</p><p>You were home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dualité

**Author's Note:**

> **Note:** I have no idea what this is or where it came from. If you can make sense of it, please tell me. I only know it's related to the Assassin AU and the middle details are a blur to me. I don't know. I don't even know myself anymore. 
> 
> This is un-beta'd. There is a lot of thesaurus abuse just because it's becoming a habit I have three essays due next week and a quiz tomorrow I hate college. 
> 
> I might re-write this (because this was literally word-puked out in an hour in a sad attempt to de-stress) one day when I regain my sanity and can look at this and go: what the heck is this piece of crap.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re nor Tokyo Ghoul √A. They belong to Ishida-sensei. This is a non-profit document.
> 
> dualité - French for duality (it was previously latin before I remembered this series has French titles so I was like: FML I SCREWED UP)

Winters in Tokyo were never particularly your favourite. There was no beauty, unlike in Hokkaido, where you had spent two years just to take a break from the bustling city, the place that made you fall in love with snow. 

You remember Hokkaido with sharp clarity – how could you not, when the transient yet piercing colour of the unblemished horizon beckoned to you from a distance?

Tokyo was sharp as well, a sharpness of a different kind. The neon lights of the busy Shinjuku district stood out glaringly bright against the backdrop of the darkness. You frowned. 

If Hokkaido was like an overwhelming torrent penetrating your very being in an exquisite manner, Tokyo was like several tiny thorns prickling into your skin.

One a stunning mural, another, a collection of annoying microcosms.

Hokkaido had been colder, but you had strangely felt at ease despite the freezing temperature – the diorama of elegant pureness never left your mind, for it reminded you of _him_. 

You don’t know who he is, but at the same time, you feel like you should – or rather, a “different” you do.

(Your rational side scoffed at the idea of alternate universes and prophetic dreams, but you ignored it. There was a reason why your previously elusive dreams returned, and you want to know why.)

Winters in Hokkaido reminded you of him – the alabaster field that had beckoned you forward, almost like it was welcoming you to a place you could belong. A place you could call home.

And the other you had considered him your home.

You remember the feeling of stepping onto the thick, soft grounds, a gift from nature – and you remember tarnishing it. All this for you to feel like you belonged.

That he belonged to you. 

Fura called you selfish once, and you can’t help but to agree with him.

The prickly feeling from the bustle of the city never faded, you ignored the discomfort, the people passing by, the “Welcomes” from _izayaka_ s and restaurants you passed by… 

It’s December 21st today. You stopped in your steps, wondering how you had forgotten as you stared stoically at the strikingly red digits. While you never cared much about your birthday, you cared about his. And you missed it. Everything else faded into the background – the black, the city and the irritating lights – as you stared at the readings on the digital clock.

You closed your eyes, and the numbers morphed in your mind, turning into splatters upon a stretch of ghastly light.

The sounds of something – someone – being pierced through and a scream resounded in your brain.

It echoed into the cold, ashen field. 

Only _that_ cold could feel so welcoming, however. You never felt alone or numb, even when the field seemed so distant in its unreachable allure.

Breathing out slowly, you opened your eyes to see the moisture from your mouth condense – a chalky mist against the murky ebony.

If Fura or Take knew about this, they would think that your choice of profession was getting to you.

You actually scoffed out loud at the idea, this time.

Resuming your trek – to nowhere, you just wanted some time to think about your previously-elusive dreams – you wondered if the boy was even real, or if he really was a figment of your imagination.

If he did exist, did he have the same dreams as well?

Did he remember the unique connection you and he shared – a certain kind of perverse relationship that only you two could have achieved. 

A relationship built on trust and lies, life and death, love and hate; something that was everything and yet nothing at the same time. You remember so clearly that he was just exactly that – everything and nothing. 

Not just to your other self, but to everyone who knew him. Who he had become as a consequence of your other self’s actions was the biggest lie – his new “identity” meant nothing to whoever lived in his past, but it meant everything to some others.

Until now, you still can’t decide what he meant to your other self. You decimated him, and built an “everything” out of the nothingness you had concocted – your first family. 

You never had a family, both in this and in your other life, but you were sure it was supposed to be based on trust. Funny how it was built on a shaky edge of trust where either one of you could choose to annihilate the other at any time.

And you had done it at his expense. You don’t know how you did it and what happened, but you knew that it was you who had done it. You made him lose everything and forced everything you wanted him to be – to you and not the CCG, if you wanted to be truthful to yourself – onto him.

But that was another you – logically, _he_ shouldn’t be bothering you at all. This was a different life, and you were different from your counterpart.

You might not even meet him in this life.

Thinking about that made you feel that much colder.

A familiar scent wafting from your left snapped you out of your thoughts, as you turned to the source of the smell – _coffee_ , and not just any coffee smell, but one with that certain nostalgic undertone.

The flash of monochrome passed your vision, and your body moved automatically – aching, wanting, hoping.

(You never knew that you could crave for another person this much.)

A soft chime brought you back to your senses, and you were suddenly overwhelmed once again – just like how it felt when you first experienced winter in Hokkaido – as the prickly coldness faded away into an inundating warmth.

The barista looked up, and you could only take in the pure whiteness of his hair, and that slightly flustered smile – the scent didn’t matter anymore. Not as much as the individual standing in front of you did.

And when he spoke, a nostalgic sound, you _knew_.

“Welcome.”

You were home.

**Author's Note:**

> I have mixed feelings about the recent chapter - always saw Ihe as a threat (what, you're not making any sense) and thought she's downright creepy but..... 
> 
> I have no idea where my feels are. I have no idea about myself. College is screwing me over. Send help.


End file.
